From Polis to Arcadia
by BrokePerception
Summary: Set after 3.09 Stealing Fire. Clarke Griffin wasn't meant to be the Flamekeeper, but much more.
Adrenaline began to seep from Clarke Griffin's tired body when she was only a safe distance from Polis, albeit not close to Arcadia, to Lincoln and by extension to Luna ── the only one who could save them from the mess they were in. She felt the exhaustion in every tiny tendril of her being. As she heard the soft thuds of her white horse's hoofs upon the leaves and branches underneath that brought her closer to her destination, to Arcadia, but put more distance between Lexa and her ── or what she had once been ── Clarke Griffin took a long, deep breath to fight back tears and tightened her one hand over her bosom and the hard object underneath between her bare skin and the dark fabric that covered it. Lexa kom Trikru was gone.

She couldn't put in words how hard it was for her to remember that all but twelve hours ago, Lexa and she had laid together in bed and she had never in her entire life felt more close or attached to anyone or, at the same time, more free, of worry and burden. She should have been incredibly worried, it showed. She had felt a calm, a belonging, as well as love and desire when she had laid there in Lexa's arms, but all of those feelings had disappeared and had been ripped away from her forcefully with the Commander's untimely death, like a waterfall that had mercilessly washed away the first, early beginnings of what could have been such a bright and warm flame. Their love had never had a chance to become an ablaze fire, and that knowledge, combined with the memories she held inside her heart of Lexa and what they had been, made her feel so empty, so impossibly lost. She had no words to describe the intensity of her despair. She would never see Lexa's smile again or hear her uniquely accented voice. She would never feel her beside her again or the way her heart beat thrummed faster when she was near her, however involuntarily. The Commander would never look at her with those dark, wide-pupil eyes ever again or the subtle twinkle within that had, or so it had seemed, existed solely for Clarke.

She gently pulled her horse's ropes to her when they entered a darker patch in the woods, easy to hide in, and brought the animal to a halt and moved to slide off. She gently patted the stallion's side before she tied the end of the rope on the bark of a tall tree beside her and sighed. They still had a ways to go, and it was of importance that they got to Arcadia as soon as possible, to stop Ontari, if only to save the Sky People from death, but Clarke was so damn tired. She knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep, but she couldn't stay awake either. She felt like she was in limbo, and all she knew she wanted was one of those things she couldn't have, ever again: Lexa.

As she slid down the bark of the tree by Lexa's horse, she thought maybe she should build a fire that would last her through the night, but she told herself that it wouldn't be worth the effort for how brief she would stay in that place. As Clarke leaned her head back, an owl hooted close by in the darkness. When she had first landed on Earth, Clarke Griffin never would have thought that it was possible for her to grow accustomed to these sounds of earthly nature. The blonde's eyes fell shut as she thought of Lexa and how she had sat up against a tree bark in much the same manner to watch over her after the bear attacked them and nearly killed them both.

So much had changed since, and she couldn't even begin to describe it all. It had been before Mount Weather, before Lexa had taken that horrible deal and betrayed the Sky People. It had been before those same Sky People had joined Lexa's coalition as a thirteenth clan, and before Pike had rejected all that. It had been before Lexa and she… Clarke Griffin swallowed back the grief she felt at the knowledge that she would never again feel the Commander's hot mouth on hers, nor their skin touch in the heat of the moment.

Tears began to run down over her face unbidden, and she reached for the wrapped bundle Titus had trusted her with before she left Polis without thought. When she looked down into her hands, having barely managed to push her feelings for Lexa and her intense grief for her back in the deep dark corner of her mind where it had to stay for now, her eyes fell upon the stitched word 'Commander' first, the title the love of her life had carried a day earlier. The ache she felt inside her as she ran a finger over the fabric made her feel like she was losing her mind, and that was the last she should be doing. She had to find Lincoln. She had to find Luna and ensure that she could be the next Commander and succeed the woman she had loved.

More tears began to pour from her blue eyes when she opened the pack carefully and took a hold of the small, metal tin that held the spirit of Lexa kom Trikru, or so she had to believe for her own sake. With a tiny _tick_ , she revealed the AI and laid eyes on it. This tiny object was the way of the people Lexa had lead and had belonged to. She couldn't fail this task that Titus had entrusted upon her before she left the capital. She couldn't dishonor Lexa that way. Carefully, Clarke took hold of the small, smooth object that the Flamekeeper had taken from her lover after her death, hidden underneath a small infinity sign at the back of the Commander's slender neck. As she held the AI up to eye it better, the damp moonlight that filtered through the deck of leaves and branches overhead glinted off of the smooth surface of it and the symbol engraved in it, in what Clarke saw as an ominous way. The blonde's brow creased as she turned the AI over between her fingers gently, no sign of the thready tentacles that she had seen attached to Lexa's being anymore.

As she tightened the cold object in one hand, she reached for the scalpel she had seen the Flamekeeper use earlier. A shade of dark blood ── Lexa's blood ── still tainted it. As she did, though, involuntary spasms shot through her left leg, and she had to slam her hand down on the pouch in order to keep it in place and make sure that it wouldn't slide from her lap. She retracted her hand very quickly when she felt how the side of the blade dug into her skin and grazed across her thumb.

"Shit," she mouthed as she raised her knees a little higher so that the pouch couldn't slide off of her lap anymore and she lifted her thumb up to her mouth instinctively. She sucked a few times before she pulled back to take a look at the damage, if any. At first, she felt relief wash over her as she confirmed that it was only a small cut ── not that she hadn't had worse and wouldn't be able to deal with that if she had to ── before she was overcome with shock.

She held her hand up in the moonlight and blinked hard. She twisted her head and hand in several directions, to ensure that what she was seeing was not a trick. It was when a drop of blood fell from the cut in her thumb and landed on the cloth in her lap and Clarke looked down at it that she knew what she was seeing was true, no matter how odd it was. The blood gently oozing from the cut in her thumb didn't seem to be like hers anymore. Her blood was much darker than she remembered it ever having been.

As she sat and stared at the drop of blood that was slowly beginning to dry up on the orange fabric, the blonde's hand fell open ── the AI still blinked in the moonlight the same way as it had before. She so wished that Lexa was there to tell her what this meant, to tell her of the ways of her people… but she wasn't anymore, and she never would be again.

A shaky hand closed upon metal as blue eyes locked onto the AI for a long moment, and in that moment, she heard Lexa, saw Lexa, smelled Lexa and felt her beside her, it seemed. That is when Clarke Griffin felt her resolve slip, and if she was going crazy or not, she didn't really care anymore.

 _"Clarke…"_

She felt the way the AI fought her, and she felt the hole in her heart pulse and pull with all its might as Lexa's voice filled the Wanheda's mind. It both elevated her and caused a despair she couldn't put in words as a small trail of dark red, warm blood trickled down from the back of her neck.

When the new Commander's eyes fluttered open, she felt how the AI and she had become one once again.

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Author's Note: Please review. I'm on Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr as well, by the way ── feel free to hop on and have a look and follow me; I'm BrokePerception on all three!


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